


Bonnie and Clyde’s Homebody’s Day

by dalyullys



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anxiety, Avengers (Mention) - Freeform, F/F, Minor Peggy Carter/Angie Martinelli, Slice of Life, Trust Issues, mental health
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 06:04:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13160808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dalyullys/pseuds/dalyullys
Summary: Every day she spent by Sharon’s side, made Natasha realize how little she knew about her but at the same time how much she could actually understand about the woman. However, Sharon realized exactly the same about the Black Widow.But now that they were together —for what it seemed a long time—, they could actually fix everything in their own weird way. Being homebodies together seemed a really good way to get to know each other better.And Natasha liked it.Because that was everything she wanted from a long time ago.





	Bonnie and Clyde’s Homebody’s Day

Her whole body ached from holding on the adrenaline, but she had to in order to get the job done. During the day, she had been getting every bit of intel she could get from the neighborhood people, playing the innocent soon-to-be-neighbor that wants to know a bit the whole place before finally moving in. It was good to not feel like everyone was about to jump over her back, ready to delate her and arrest her.

Running her fingers through her now short hair, she wondered if it was even a good idea. She was going to shoot her, in the best case, but she could get away from it with her natural gift of the gab. But she was going to beat her up, oh yeah, and it was going to hurt...for a day, maybe, two if she shoot her.

She looked up at the apartment block from the terrace where she was sat at. The last one was hers, she studied the whole place from her laptop when she did some research field at the station. Escaping from Berlin was the easiest thing she ever did, but as much as she wanted to not be noticed, being the worldwide-known-redhead didn’t help her a bit. With luck she had managed to reach Belarus before anyone notice her, but then a few agents from the Interpol tried to casually knock her down. The idea of dying her hair wasn’t really attractive but it was for the best. Another thing that she didn’t like at all. She really hated blonde, with every drop of her whole being, only liking it on her.

Sharon’s blonde wasn’t that light. It was way darker, caramel-like.

Hers was almost white, platinum, and she hated it even more thanks to her memories.

Gulping down the rest of her coffee, she prepared herself to climb to the top of the building. If she entered by the front door, then it would be so rookie of her. Like a mere burglar, too loud, too childish. Her backpack had only a few things she got to get before running away. Her laptop, her favorite pair of boots, a few of her toys and some clothes. She felt like a soldier, too little in her back and none to come back home to.

While climbing from the back alley, she remembered her trip. After Belarus she went to Russia right away, to clear her mind and find some old connections that would help her get some new documents and another intel she would need after parting ways with everyone she knew. For a second, around the fourth block, she had to stop. Hanging there from a balcony, thinking that she was alone now with none to care if she let herself fall from that high—she could hear Sharon already, giving her the scold of her life while she probably bleed to death, her brain all over the pavement.

But now there she was, in Finland, climbing Sharon’s apartment block to get in hers and be shoot by the same woman out of surprise. Lovely plan, she chuckled giving herself a last push in Sharon’s balcony.

The metal balcony was frozen, making her feet hurt from the cold that passed through her thin climbing shoes. Taking one of her toys out of her even thiner coat, the window lock gave in really easily. It was bloody cold out there, she hadn’t any bit of patience after being the whole day wandering around in that cold town Sharon decided to settle her safe place.

When her feet touched the carpet, she looked around to take a glimpse of the whole living room. Sharon wasn’t home, not yet at least, giving her a little time to think about what she was going to tell her.

She closed the window with care —trying to not be noisy anyway, out of habit— and when she turned around to start walking towards the lamp at the corner of the room, an iron fist met her jaw with a powerful hook.

Dizzy for a second, she managed to take a wrist and then throw a blind punch that landed right in someone’s shoulder. The attacker didn’t seem to feel it, because they threw another punch and then connected it with a side kick that she got to stop. The electricity shone for a second before her punch landed right in her attacker’s stomach, getting a shriek of pain from them. But that didn’t last much, because the attacker held her arm before kicking her ribs twice. With her last electric charge wasted, she tried to knock the attacker down with all her strength, jumping over them and encircling her legs to their neck before smash both fists in their head.

However as she was encircling her legs around their neck, the attacker put both hands in her thighs before spinning around and making her to lose her balance and land against the wall. That kicked the air out of her lungs immediately and quickly she was retained in a headlock. The attacker strength was enough to strangulate her now that she didn’t have much of hers to counterattack.

Feeling the lack of oxygen creeping into her, her hand wandered blindly around her till she got something and she smashed it in the head of her attacker, breaking free finally and rolling away from them.

In her head, every single bit of intel passed at light speed, only wondering if someone had found Sharon before her and they were going to get her right in the moment she steps in her apartment. She had to get rid off them before she came back home, she had to save her—

“Don’t you fucking dare to move,” she felt the cold bite of a gun in the middle of her forehead. The voice was twice as cold and a little click from the safety made her shiver. “Because I won’t hesitate on painting my wall with your head.”

She kept being still where she was, her brain stuck on what the attacker had said. Her voice was cold, yeah, but she could figure out a soft accent from someone that was too into getting unnoticed. And also, the remark on ‘my wall’ made her panic.

It was Sharon. Sharon was the attacker.

Before she could say something, they heard someone walking towards the front door. In the darkness, she saw Sharon put a finger over her lips to shush her. Whoever was behind the door, asked worriedly if Sharon was okay but the old lady —as she could discern perfectly- called her ‘ _Elisabetta_ ’ instead of her real name. Sharon replied in loud italian, almost cheerful to match the lie that came with her words —bang her head? Against the shelf? And then knock off the wardrobe?— and waited a minute before pressing the gun a bit more against her skin. When the old lady went away after making Sharon promise that she will pass by her house next morning, to check if she was really okay, and she swore she had seen the determination to kill her in Sharon’s eyes.

Natasha never blurted out something that fast ever in her life.

“It’s me, Sharon. It’s me, please, don’t shoot,” for once she really felt her tears piling up in her eyes. “Put the safety on the loaded gun, baby. Put the safety on, damn it.”

Sharon kept the gun against her skin but her voice sounded different when she talked next.

“Natasha?” That was more warm and more like the Sharon she knew. “What are—bloody hell, Natasha.”

A weak smile rolled over Natasha’s lips but when Sharon turned on the light, the smile died. Sharon was bleeding from her head, the blood dripping over her right eye; her face had the pain painted all over it, matching with her right arm resting in her stomach; and her shoulder looked...off. Natasha was way less harm than her, only feeling a little ache in her throat and maybe she would have a bruise in her cheek from the punch.

Her dark brown hair was just an insignificant detail compared with the rest.

“When did you got this strong? Baby has some iron punches,” Natasha tried to brush the situation off, trying to play along with a smirk. “Are you going to keep pointing at me with the gun or would you like me to help you?”

Sharon’s face got even colder with the remark. Natasha knew that she didn’t let a spark of her shine for at least four or five months but now she was there, alive. When she heard the soft click from the safety, Natasha felt herself relax. But Sharon wasn’t, and her lips were pressed in a strong line before say something.

“You electrocuted me,” her hand tighten over her stomach, Natasha feeling a rush of guilty washing her from head to toe. “After barging in my apartment, four and half months without any trace of you or any of the others,” she wiped with shaking fingers some blood off her face. Natasha stood there, looking at her. “And the only thing you say is ‘baby has some iron punches’?”

“Would you be happier if I’d said ‘I’m home, my love’?” Natasha tried to sass her way out of Sharon’s building anger.

“I’d be okay without my butcher telling me there was this strange blonde woman acting all suspicious around town, creeping the shit out of everyone around the block,” Natasha hit the first strike just with her try of avoiding it. “Did you think for a second that I was myself hiding?”

“I thought you were here because the CIA wanted you here,” Natasha, don’t lie, it’s even worse if you do it. The little voice in her head was always so right in these cases. “You’re always the perfect one, babe.”

“After stealing government stuff, I was included in the same list as you all,” she tried to smile but she drop it immediately. “Not even a kiss from Captain America himself make any of this slightly better.”

Natasha felt cold, her whole body aching inside because of the confession.

“I thought you were satisfied with the Black Widow eating you out,” she felt the second strike as soon as those words left her mouth, Sharon’s eyes darting to hers menacing. “Next time I see that moron, you bet I’m going to crack his skull.”

“Your childish jealousy it’s making me dizzy, Romanoff,” she said coldly, letting the gun over the table and looking really pale at this moment. Natasha worried immediately, taking a few steps towards Sharon before she lifted her good arm to stop her. “I swear if you say something else to sass your way out from this, I’m kicking you out.”

“I smashed a crystal ashtray against your head, sweetie,” Natasha was serious now but she stopped when Sharon’s hand touch her belly. She could see her tears falling freely from her eyes and her hand gripped in Natasha’s thin coat. “I think you’ll need stitches.”

“What I need now is a glass of bourbon,” Sharon’s voice cracked as soon the words left her mouth. “And I won’t say no to a kiss, maybe.”

No third strike. Natasha kneeled in front of the other woman before pulling her into a kiss. It tasted salty but she didn’t care a single bit. She pulled away a little, letting out a soft chuckle that made Sharon flinch and let out a few more tears. With care, she wiped them with her thumbs before pressing her lips together again. This was what she loved from her girl. She could be ready to take her down one second and the next she could melt her insides, only being the big nervous ball of fluff she was under the facade of ‘agent’.

It took a couple more of minutes for Sharon to let go of her. Natasha stood up, going towards the cupboard to get a glass and pour the alcohol there. The strong drink made her grimace twist a bit, but when she saw her girl chug it as if was water she let out a muffled laugh. Her fingers ran through Sharon’s dark locks, checking the open wound before asking quietly where the first-aid kit was. Head wounds could be so scandalous, she thought while cleaning the cut placed in Sharon’s hair line. Natasha put her shoulder back after she had chug another glass of strong bourbon and, after checking the electroshock wasn’t going to make her have a heart attack, she proceeded to take care of the burnt in Sharon’s stomach.

“I like your hair,” those four words were followed by the brunette brushing with care Natasha’s short hair.

“I like yours too, silly,” a light chuckle before a kiss in her cheek. “I have to say this before I blurted it out in an inappropriate moment." Sharon tried to hold her head with her good hand. "Babe, you really look like you're _her_ love child.”

Sharon smiled at that for a second and then she sighed deeply. The sigh gave Natasha the feeling that she didn't have to say that. There was something behind her behavior that she didn’t want to tell yet and Natasha knew it by the way she was trying to avoid eye contact. She understood, smiling warmly before making her lying down in the couch. She wasn’t going to go anywhere, but Sharon caught her hand before making her way to the kitchen. She didn’t look at her and Natasha had to be the one talking again.

“I’m starving, I thought it would be really cool if I make some supper for both,” she ran her thumb over Sharon’s back of the hand to calm her down.

“You won’t go, right?” Her voice was soft and cautious, not letting show more feeling that she already had shown. “You came here for a reason.”

Natasha leant one more time over Sharon to press a kiss in her forehead. It made her feel heavy inside when the other woman talked with that tiny voice. She had talked like that a few times in front of her, the last one in Berlin when they met briefly before everything went down hill, right after Peggy’s funeral. It was the girl behind the agent, the girl that caught her around her fingers when she didn’t notice, the girl that she was willing to give in every single time her brown eyes locked with hers.

“I thought you wanted to move in with me,” Natasha faked a hurt voice before keep talking with playfulness dripping in every word that left her mouth. Sharon’s hand slapped her thigh. “And no, I won’t go. We will have time tomorrow to talk, Bonnie, but for now let Clyde take care of you.”

Sharon chuckled something that seemed like ‘why are you always Clyde’, trying to sound more cheerful than the last interactions they had. However, from the kitchen, Natasha saw how she put her gun near her in the table. That little detail made her wonder about what the other woman had been put through during their separate time.

She didn't miss either how Sharon flinched slightly when she put the plate over the living room table.

* * *

Sitting cross-legged over the toilet, Natasha rubbed her temples with her fingers. It was nearly four in the morning, way after they decided that it was a really good idea to get some sleep. She took the couch for once in her life, trying to give Sharon some space to think alone. She decided not to ask for anything more than a shower, letting her desire of working in her laptop die when Sharon got pale with the mention of it.

Natasha was a nervous ball on daily basis, she couldn't stay still for five minutes without jumping into weird monologues or without start messing around with whoever was near her. It was something that came with her personality, it was Natalia trying to get out in someway. And lately these days, she felt more like Natalia than Natasha. That's why she was locked in the only bathroom of the apartment, trying to come up with something to finally stay still for what it seemed would be a long time.

She listed —helping herself with her fingers too— things that she knew already about Sharon. When she got a handful, she started to reduce the list to those she knew that drive Sharon mad. The first thing she had to do was to make the other woman comfortable before jumping on where they left it last time they saw each other.

For example, Sharon hated profusely how Natasha couldn't stop from pacing the room like a caged animal when she ran out from things to do. She couldn't stand either that her favorite hobby was both mounting and unmounting things in the apartment, with Sharon having to buy two microwaves and one hairdryer once Natasha stayed with her for a few months. The other thing was to actually help doing house chores, because after a few incidents and Sharon saying that it was okay, that she could handle it in her own, Natasha thought she could put a bit more of attention to it.

She sighed heavily, feeling her chest full of things she knew that drive Sharon mad even when they didn't talk about them. It was going to be a hard task, but she was decided to make it work. It was something she owed to Sharon, a normal life.

A _normal_ life.

A soft chuckle got muffled against her hand before closing her eyes. It was impossible to have a 'normal' life with their profession, even more when they were being chased by federals and a few private security companies. Natasha wished to have Clint by her side, to ask him about how the fuck he managed to hide his whole family from all and maybe to have a shoulder to rely on. She trusted Steve and Sharon, but Clint was there for her always. And she missed him. She really missed him.

In the middle of the storm that was her head, someone made her come back to Earth. A quick knock in the bathroom door that made her jump in her feet and unlock the door.

Sharon was there, sleepy and puffy eyes, her —now, Natasha swallowed hard again— dark hair messier than the night before and her hand over her wounded shoulder.

"I thought you took to your heels when I fell asleep," her voice was a bit husky and she licked her lips absent minded.

“Why would I do that?” Natasha’s smirk hid her nervousness, leaning forward to kiss her nose.

“I don’t know, you always runaway in my dreams,” her hand brushed away some strands of Natasha’s hair before pulling her in a hug, taking in count not be harsh and make her own wounds worse. “I’m glad you didn’t this time.”

A soft last whisper on top her head. A warm embrace that lingered in Natasha’s body even when Sharon broke apart and passed by her to get in the shower.

* * *

She felt like an alien hours later, sitting by Sharon's side at her neighbor’s house. The Italian woman that had asked Sharon if she was okay the night before was making them breakfast, and Sharon didn't seem awkward by the whole situation. Natasha felt uncomfortable though, with a toddler and a young woman staring curious at her from the other side of the table.

Sharon felt familiar with the older woman around, speaking in almost perfect Italian. Another thing that Natasha found funny was the sweet coincidence. Sharon moved to Finland, to the other side of the world, just to make friends like an old Italian immigrant who married a Finnish man and now was taking care of her grand-daughter and her toddler.

However, Natasha liked how the elderly woman treat her favorite agent as if she was her grandchild too. Even though she had to muffle a giggle every time the woman callrd Sharon by ' _Elisabetta_ '.

New identities were always fun. It was like playing a game you only knew.

And playing roles with Sharon was the best. Natasha was now Nadja Redford, proud girlfriend of Elizabeth Martinelli, which had traveled all the way to Finland because her parents kicked her out after coming out to them. Natasha let Sharon build the role for her, only talking a shade of rusty Italian when it was needed —she understands but it's a big deal to talk, Natasha was cracking up inside, knowing her Italian was way better than Sharon's. Although she was finding sexy Sharon's Brooklyn accent under all the effort she was putting into the facade.

When they were safe again behind Sharon's apartment door, Natasha finally burst into laughter after holding it up during the whole thing.

"Nadja Redford is going to be one of my favorite identities," she said, walking to the kitchen to get a glass of water, rubbing away the pain in her stomach due to the laughter. "You are good at coming up with ideas, but you didn't tell me a thing about yours, Miss Elizabeth Martinelli."

Sharon didn't say a thing for a few seconds, only staring at Natasha. Being with someone close to her after this long felt strange to her, but it was reassuring. It still feels unreal, even putting up all that lie to build Natasha’s persona, but with time she would find herself comfortable again. Even with Natasha talking like they were on a mission.

“Elizabeth Martinelli lost her father on a lab incident, mom tried to move on but she end up living with her Nonna, an old movie star that worked as a governmental secretary when she got too old for the scene,” Sharon let herself fall in the individual sofa, a soft smile curving her lips. “When her Nonna died, Elizabeth moved to Finland, landing a job at Stark Industries new project as a security guard. Never heard of her mom after her tenth birthday.”

“Your Nonna was lit,” Natasha chuckled, walking towards her. “Stark Industries?”

“Yeah, it was. A sunshine on Earth, my grandaunt used to say,” Sharon welcomed her, feeling the burn on her stomach pulling a bit when the other woman got comfortable in her lap. “Pepper helped me, she was the only one I could contact after Berlin. We put everything together within two days, maybe, and I moved in here by the end of the week. She is the only one knowing I’m here...well, and now you too.”

“Now everything makes more sense, Tony wouldn’t let his guard down after Vanko’s fiasco. He was actually hurt by me lying and sticking my nose into his files,” another chuckle and Sharon took her hand. “I respect Pepper a lot, but she isn’t that skilled in making her files unreadable. I put some more security up after taking what I needed. We are more safe now.”

They stayed in silence for a while, only playing with their hands and Natasha kissing Sharon's knuckles from time to time. Those times when they only acted sweet towards each other were the best. But something clicked on Natasha's mind, something that needed to be ask now that she noticed. Later Sharon would ask her about how exactly she found her aside of sniffing around things that didn't concern her.

"Elizabeth's grandaunt or Sharon's grandaunt?" she mumbled, looking directly at Sharon's eyes.

"Grandaunt is the same for both," Sharon looked troubled for a second, even with a faint smile over her lips. "I'm not ready to talk about it, _Natalia_. I just want to know how did you find me and what do you actually want," Natasha felt out of breath with how fast everything changed in Sharon's behavior. "And I want it now. Spit it out."

Natasha fell to the floor when Sharon stood up, hitting slightly her head with the border of the couch. That was plainly rude, but she had a point. She appeared in the middle of the night, somewhere none but two persons knew about and she actually said 'yeah' when Sharon told her she knew there was a motive behind her doing all this.

When she finally stood up, Sharon was looking at her from the open plan kitchen. Her hands gripped over the counter and with nothing but her agent self showing in her eyes. She was about to joke about Sharon having her gun with her, when the other woman put her favorite one over the counter as little reminder.

"Okay, let me take a s—" Sharon raised a brow and Natasha stood still in front of her, rubbing her hand over her eyes before start talking. "After Berlin I ran away before anyone could notice. Took my laptop and a few things before sprinting towards Poland. I knew someone on Warsaw that could actually help me get some new documents, so that was my first stop. I didn't last there, two weeks later I was on my way to Belarus."

Natasha sighed heavily, scratching her scalp a bit while Sharon stayed still.

"Some agents made me recognize that having red hair wasn't really okay if you are on the run," she took a few platinum strands of her hair. "So I left too when they found me near Latvia's frontier. Saint Petersburg isn't that far from where I was, so my feet lead me home." She let out a low chuckle that made her feel her eyes start to get teary. "I met with an old friend and he kept me safe for a couple months, while I was gathering enough information about the others. I wanted to join them in Wakanda," Natasha flashed a quick smile and put her hands behind her back. "But I found you while wandering in Tony's files. And I wanted to be with you."

"Being cheesy doesn't suit you," Sharon shook her head slowly, breaking the eye contact to look at the counter.

"It's the truth, Sharon," her voice lowered more when she said the name, showing the anger that was building up on her. "Can’t you believe in me? For once?"

Okay, she hadn't need to say that. It was unnecessary, she knew it. But this game of who push the other further was tiring her after three years of playing it. However, Sharon's eyes darted again to meet Natasha's and she took away her gun to put it on a drawer.

"For _once_?" Her voice was showing the true anger from someone that was slowly burning inside. "I believed in you when a bunch of aliens and a Nordic god tried to kill you and you told me it was over the night after; I believed in you the night you told me what you did to my legacy, telling me you were done with this life at the moment; I believed in you when you all landed in Washington, after destroying a whole city because Stark decided to play the mad scientist; I believed in you when you told me you wanted to settle down with me after the funeral," Sharon was crying at this point and Natasha looked down at the floor. "After every time I believe in you, you run away from me. And you just asked me to believe in you for once."

"I was trying to get intel about Tony and the others in real time when I got across your file, I guess Steve pulled the old protocol to protect them all because I didn't find shit," the truth told straight away was the way Natasha had to take in order to make Sharon believe in her. "I'd turned my back on Tony to help Steve and now I'm alone like always," Natasha sighed again before daring to look at Sharon. "And I rather be alone with someone that actually likes me than simply alone," Another chuckle and it was her turn to cry. "I guess I’ll take my stuff, I shouldn’t be here if you aren’t comfortable. It seems you don’t like me either after all...”

Sharon walked around the counter to take Natasha's hands. The only thing she did was holding her hands really tight before pulling them closer to kiss her fingers. Her lips were cold when she pulled Natasha in for a kiss. Cold, salty and wet.

“I like you,” Sharon’s voice was so low that Natasha thought she didn’t say a thing. “I love Nadja, I love Natasha, I love _Natalia_ ,” she could feel the brunette’s hands going up her arms to hold her better. “I love you and I only needed you to tell me the truth,” Sharon made her look at her, placing her hands in each side of Natasha’s face. “Clyde always told Bonnie the truth, right?”

Natasha didn’t know a single fuck about what that meant for Sharon, but she nodded. She nodded and then she felt herself pushing Sharon towards the master bedroom. She felt her own hands acting with care to not touch the wounds she inflicted. Sharon was all over her senses, from muffled moans to hands that roamed around her body with knowledge.

They always made up like that. They would sort things out, loose ends to take care of when the right time arrived. Eventually, when they both find themselves comfortable around each other again to let their guard down. And that was okay to them, because they didn’t know how to fix things without landing some punches and no-meant words.

With Sharon over her, Natasha thought they would have enough time this time around. Enough time to actually address each other properly.

Enough for Natasha to feel _safe_.

Enough for Sharon to feel _secure_.

She was going to scold the taller woman about living the frat-boy life. Yeah, she was going to put some order in her life, she couldn’t live off leftovers from the old Italian woman that lived under her nor having everything as if a bomb had just exploded in the middle of the master room forever.

But first she would take care of what was going on between her legs. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a little fic about the period of time between Civil War and Infinity War. I don’t really know what’s going to happen on the movies, but for me Natasha ran away alone and Sharon too. So let’s see what happens here, I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it!


End file.
